Eight
EIGHT
SOLEIL
D_KING liked your post
I stare at the notification, getting a little giddy as each second passes. It seems a bit silly, but it feels like he’s flirting. He could’ve liked any picture, but he chose the one of just me. I’m sure the guy is only doing it to get more followers. Then again, he does have 187k followers, so why choose my page to look at?
I shut out of the app and finish folding laundry. It’s late and Dahlia has long since fallen asleep, but my brain has not been able to shut down since receiving that email from my ex -step-cousin, Meredith. I received quite a few shortly after Gene died, but when we moved and the emails slowed, I figured she was done groveling and asking for forgiveness. When I opened my inbox to see a new email from her, I wanted so badly to just send it straight to the trash and ignore her. But there was a nagging feeling that told me I needed to open it. Boy do I wish I wouldn’t have listened to my gut.
Hi Sunny,
I know you said you never want to hear from me again, and I understand. But I really want to mend things with our family. Mom and Dad are so broken, and George won’t even talk to her. If you could just call me and–
I closed the email, not bothering to read the rest of it. I know how it goes. Every few weeks, Meredith emails me to beg for forgiveness and help her get our family back together. Her last email to me said “Family is so important. We need to be there for one another. To help with Dahlia and guide her through her new life.”
Family is important? Is she kidding with that bullshit? If family was so important, why did she go after her cousin’s husband when she could have had anyone? I neither responded nor deleted the email from her. I just closed out and let it be. It was too much for my mind to process and I just couldn’t deal with it. Not now and maybe not ever.
I throw Dahlia’s clothes in the basket and sit down on the small bench in the small laundry room and pull out my phone. I go back to the social media app I told myself I would not open again, and click on D_King’s account.
Clicking on one video I smile, entertained by this man on a bike. I watch as he dances, moving his body while riding, doing dangerous stunts that should definitely not be performed at a high rate of speed, and lifting his shirt to show off his incredibly fit physique. Actually fit isn’t the proper word to describe him. He lifts his shirt to show off his washboard abs that are a beautiful olive tone and so defined they can’t be real, yet they are.
I get lost in watching one reel after another and before I know it, an hour has passed and I have liked more videos than is appropriate. I wonder what he looks like under the helmet? I can imagine the way his hard ridges feel under my fingertips. Are his fingers calloused from gripping the handle bars and if so, how would the rough edges feel against my smooth stomach? I shiver when I imagine the deep timber of his voice whispering in my ear.
I snap out of my haze and sigh, then grab the clothes basket along with some more batteries. My poor vibe now has to keep up with the fantasy of two men.
“Hey Mommy?” Dahlia sits at our little kitchen table, her feet swinging back and forth, eating a bowl of oatmeal as I rush around.
“Yes my little dove.” I slice cucumbers and place them inside of her little lunch kit along with a container of peanut butter for her to dip them into.
“Can we go to the beach on Saturday? I really wanna go. And can we ask Auntie Ky if she can come, too?” She heaps another spoonful of oatmeal and apples into her mouth and chews.
I look at the clock and see that we have fifteen minutes to get out of the house in order to not be late for school. After relaxing to a video of D_King and my trusty vibrator, it was past midnight before I finally fell asleep. It made for a tough morning when my alarm went off at six a.m.
“Sure. I’ll call Auntie Ky this afternoon and ask if she can join us. Now, I need you to hurry so you can get your teeth brushed and shoes on. We have to leave really soon.” She nods with a smile and shovels more oatmeal into her mouth.
I grab her lunch box and shove it into her backpack before rushing into the bathroom to check my face. My cheeks are flushed and my hair looks a little wild. With very little time left, I finger comb my hair, pulling up what I can into a bun while the short strands fall out, and swipe on some mascara. I don’t have any virtual meetings this morning, so the denim shorts and slightly cropped t-shirt is just fine. I’m not too concerned about what I look like.
“I’m done!” Dahlia shouts and I return to the kitchen, snatch up her bowl and rinse it out, leaving it in the sink to deal with later.
“Okay. Go brush your teeth and I’ll grab your shoes. Let’s see how fast we can do it. Ready?” I ask and she nods her head rapidly. “One, two, three, Go!”
Making it a race helps her not drag her feet and complain about having to brush her teeth. After she quickly brushes her teeth and slips on her shoes, we’re in the car and off, only a few minutes late. We sing songs and laugh and before too long, we’re pulling up to school. Instead of the normal drop off with the kindergarten assistants, I park and walk her in myself. If she goes with the assistant, she’ll dawdle and talk too much. With me, I can hurry her along.
She skips and I pull her towards her class, barely getting there before the bell rings and Malik closes the door.
“Give me a squeeze and a smooch,” I tell her and bend to wrap her in my arms.
When I stand back up, I find Malik watching me with hooded eyes. It’s not like the friendly hello look that he usually gives us parents. This one is darker and…hungry. I gulp and return a shaky smile.
“S-sorry we’re a little late. Rough start to the morning,” I explain.
His Adam's apple bobs in his throat and he croaks, “No problem. Just glad you made it. Dahlia, the class is working on their morning worksheets. Go ahead and hop to it, little miss.”
She chuckles and literally hops through the door and to her seat. Malik turns his attention back to me and I freeze.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Oh yeah. Fine. I just woke up late. I stayed up late…reading, and it was difficult dragging myself out of bed this morning.” He slowly nods his head and we continue to stare at one another until the bell rings and I startle. “Well. Have a good day.”
“You too, Soleil. You too.” His eyes scan up and down my body as he steps backwards into the class, pulling the door with him.
I stand there for another moment and see him take one last look back through the small window in the door and feel sweat bead on my forehead.
To quote my best friend Kyle, heaven help that man is fine.